


Bad Boyfriend

by sceal



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Background Het, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Minor Liam Dunbar/Malia Tate, Minor Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Oblivious Derek, POV Derek, POV Stiles, Past Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate, Pining Derek, Protective Derek, Top Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-04 14:18:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3071285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceal/pseuds/sceal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something monstrous lurks in the woods, but that is the least of Stiles’s problems. None of his friends agree with him about the fact that Derek wants to jump his bones. Derek himself is confused on that front; not only does he mistakenly think Stiles is still dating Malia, he also thinks Stiles is bad at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so, for plot purposes: werewolves can’t tell when people are lying, because really your heart could speed up for all sorts of reasons.

IN A LOFT on the bad side of town, Derek Hale stood in the shower, water streaming in rivulets down his chest. He lathered himself with a bar of unscented soap, cleaning off the grime from his nightly run, but he couldn’t wash away a sense of disquiet.  The woods had been strange for the last few weeks, the animals unusually silent, as if fleeing a predator. He never smelled anything off but he couldn’t escape the sense that something was hunting him.

He wanted to call Scott, but Derek couldn’t check on the pack every night.  There were no new messages on his cell, so he had to assume everyone was all right.

He quickly rinsed himself off and then just stood, leaning forward with his head bowed, welcoming the hot water pressure massaging his back.

He should get out of the shower. He was hungry, but restless too, antsy. He needed to blow off steam, think of something else.

He reached down, took himself in hand, and closed his eyes, reaching for a fantasy.  He tried to start off with something light, something vanilla. Big, bare breasts. He idly began a rhythmic stroke, but it was as if the motion of his hand dispelled the hazy tits from his mind.  The female naked chest became clothed, covered by a plain t-shirt and an open, plaid shirt, and, as if popped by a needle, her boobs lost their oomph, so much so that she morphed into someone distinctly manly. 

Derek halted his handjob and cracked open his eyes. Just like that, the eerily familiar outfit on his fantasy-stranger faded away, replaced by the reality of the wall of tiles in front of him.

Maybe he should stop and get something to eat instead.  No, he could control his body, damn it, and by god he would make his brain obey his wishes.

He took a deep breath, shut his eyes again and tried to get back in the zone. It didn’t have to be breasts, it could be a man’s chest.

Derek’s dick gave a happy lurch at that and they were back in business.

Just some random, hot guy, with a muscular chest, flat like a board, pale skin, broad shoulders outlined by the straps of a backpack—fuck, no, no backpack, just muscles, any random dude’s muscles, with a light splatter of freckles leading up his neck.

 A chiseled jaw, earnest brown eyes, short, choppy hair. The guy falling to his knees with a coltish grace. Derek grabbing onto that hair and pulling that welcome mouth closer, the guy’s lips forming an o, wrapping around— 

“Derek?” The familiar voice came from downstairs.

Derek’s hand dropped from his cock as if scalded.  His eyes burst open. He shut off the water and stepped out of the tub, the shock of interruption thankfully wilting his hard-on. He took a second to shake himself dry, wrapped a towel around his hips and hurried out of the bathroom.

He rushed down the spiral staircase and spotted Stiles lounging against the entrance’s sliding door. “We need your help.”

We? Derek belatedly noticed Stiles was not alone. Malia sat on the couch, tense.

“What’s wrong?” Derek caught himself rubbing the back of his neck. He casually dropped his hand and crossed his arms.  _They can’t read your mind. They don’t know what you were doing._

“I spotted a werewolf outside Stiles’s house,” Malia said.

Derek was filled with a primal urge to bite someone’s head off. He couldn’t leave Stiles and Malia unprotected while he tracked the werewolf down. He’d need backup. “Where’s Scott?”

“On his way,” Malia said. “He helped me track the wolf, then sent us here.  He’s fetching Kira and coming over.”

“Where did the trail end?” In his focus on figuring out who was stalking Stiles, Derek still managed to grasp that, one: his pack had tried to track down a suspicious werewolf without bothering to call him, not even oh say when they’d spotted the thing —he didn’t even want to think of them alone in the woods, not running from, but chasing, a monster—; two: his home was about to be invaded by a swarm of teenagers.

Malia frowned. “We lost it in the river.”

The werewolf was covering his tracks. As soon as Derek saw the pack off safely to school tomorrow morning, he’d check the forest for himself.

 

“IS IT ALRIGHT if I shower?” Stiles asked for courtesy’s sake, his arms already full of his towel and boxer shorts.

When Derek didn’t answer right away, Stiles turned just in time to catch the werewolf guiltily raising his gaze to his face.  Well, no, that was a lie.  In Derek’s defense, the guy did lift his eyes from where Stiles’s apparently irresistible ass had been, but they never made it past the boxers in Stiles’s hand.

Which was a testament to how deeply Derek was into him, because, the boxers? They weren’t some slick pair of tight, revealing black underwear, no, these should’ve worked as a chastity belt. Not that Stiles was trying to protect his virtue, he’d just landed on his worn, loose, SpongeBob underpants while Scott was breathing down his neck, pressuring him to pack and evacuate the premises pronto.

Stiles’s spine prickled and he swallowed an exasperated sigh. This, this is when he needed witnesses who could testify that Derek indeed wanted to jump his bones.  But no, Derek only undressed him with his eyes when no one else was around. Malia, Scott and Kira were already sleeping in Peter and Cora’s old bedrooms.

His friends’ refusal to believe that Derek had the hots for him was frankly hurtful.

But the satisfaction of knowing he was right made up for it.  And all this extra attention Derek gave him didn’t hurt.  In fact, with every glance Stiles’s confidence grew exponentially.  He could physically feel the symptoms.

Growing more confident felt awfully similar to coming down with a fever. Hot temperature, dizziness, and it made him want to lie down, preferably with Derek on top of him.

Derek continued to size him up, winning the prize for biggest cocktease of the year. Stiles’s entire body warmed. His cheeks reddened, his pulse shot through the roof.  His thoughts grew hazy, sticky, and all glued to the triangle of skin revealed by Derek’s henley. Thank god the guy was no longer in a towel.

 “Yeah,” Derek finally said, turning around and leaving Stiles feeling understandably bereft.

“I’ll just be in here,” Stiles called out. “Alone. Showering. Naked.”

No response.

Stiles sighed. Derek was so weird. Like, the guy refused to put a single move on him.

Ah, well, he could worry about that later.  Right now he had access to Derek Hale’s shower.

Stiles undressed and jumped into the tub. He reached for the soap and held it in his hands like it was the holy grail.  This baby got rubbed all over Derek’s body.  Stiles lifted it to his nose and sniffed it, disappointed when it smelled like nothing much. 

He fiddled with the nob, jumped back to the edge of the tub to escape the stream of cold water.  Gave it a few seconds to heat up, tested it with his fingers.  Nice.

Stiles started rubbing the soap all over his body, and closed his eyes.  He pictured Derek rushing back into the bathroom, bending him over and fucking him, and had himself a steamy shower.

 

DEREK WOKE FROM a light sleep when Stiles entered his bedroom, which yeah, was sort of the loft’s central room, but Stiles had no business here in the middle of the night. Derek sat up, hugged the covers around himself and glared at the shadow skulking towards him in nothing but those ugly, old, oversized yellow boxers. They practically glowed in the dark. “What are you doing?”

“Malia’s missing,” Stiles said, “I woke up and she was gone.”

Which is how Derek found himself running through the woods searching for his cousin.  He’d made Kira and Stiles stay back, Kira to protect Stiles.

Finally they tracked down Malia’s scent. She was alive and uninjured, standing alone in a clearing.

“I know who’s after us,” Malia said. “It’s my mom.”

“What?” Scott gasped.

“Let’s talk when we’re back at the loft,” Derek changed back into his wolf form and led his charges back home.

Only then did they listen to Malia’s story.

 Malia described her need for air that had resulted in an encounter with the desert wolf. Derek couldn’t help but notice Stiles, lounging on the couch.  Stiles hadn’t hugged her in relief when she came home.  He hadn’t even scolded her for leaving and then apologised with a confession that his angry outburst had only been fear for her safety.

No, he hadn’t said a word.  That, and a few other things Derek had picked up on these last few weeks, convinced him that something needed to be done.

Stiles wasn’t treating Malia right, and it was Derek’s duty, as her older cousin, to fix it. Especially now, when Malia needed all the shoulders to lean on she could find, what with her mama-drama.

“Did she say what she wanted?” Scott said, while Stiles stifled a yawn, the unfeeling asshole.

Derek casually walked over to the couch.

“No,” Malia was saying on the other side of the room, “just that she was my mom. You guys scared her off. But, to give you an idea, I think Peter’s the nice one in the family.”

Derek stood with his back to the rest of the gang, facing Stiles. He picked Stiles up by his shirt collar, glaring at him when he showed signs of wanting to speak.  They exited the room without notice, and Derek led him to the roof.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

STILES STOOD ON a roof, very far from any of the edges so that Derek wouldn’t get any more sudden violent urges that could involve throwing him to his unsightly death.  “What’s going on?” Was this it? Derek was finally seducing him?

Up here?

Stiles wasn’t judging, but he was a little afraid of heights and, frankly, Derek’s technique could use some work. There was no bed or anything. They were going to fuck on the concrete floor? Major points for spontaneity, but an air mattress or even a yoga mat would be nice.  Better yet, a railing to secure the boundaries of this uncomfortably open space. Someone could just fall off.

_Don’t look down, Stiles._

_Who cares if it’s a terrifying locale, Derek’s going to ram his dick so hard into you, you won’t be able to walk for a week._

He could do this.

Ready for anything, Stiles smiled encouraginly at the man pacing in front of him.

Which is of course when the werewolf opened his mouth and ruined everything.

“You need to take better care of Malia,” Derek said, and Stiles started to get a headache. What the hell was going on?

“Do I?” he said, willing to play along anyways, see where this would lead.

“She needs her boyfriend right now."

Stiles spluttered. "Her what?"

"Look, I realize this isn't easy to hear, but you haven't been the best of partners lately."

Stiles opened his mouth to protest vehemently and set a few things straight.

Derek raised his hand, demanding silence, the tyrant. "But I can help you with that.”

Stiles suddenly decided that now was not the time to mention that him and Malia had broken it off a month ago, back when Stiles finally accepted that Derek’s infatuation wasn’t one-sided. Yeah, she still bunked at his house sometimes, in the guest room. They were still friends and she didn’t exactly have a plethora of warm and cuddly family members rushing to welcome her in, present company included. “Alright, sure, yeah.”

Derek, if anything, glared at him harder, this time with suspicion.

Stiles raised his arms. “Hey, I am, as ever, at your service. You say I need to be schooled? Well, have at it, professor.”

Derek began to look pained. “Please don’t talk like that.”

“Like what?” Stiles said innocently.  _Like we’re on a porn set and you’re about to whip off your belt and—_

“Never mind,” Derek said. “Let’s get started.”

Oh, this was bound to be good.

“I’ve taken the liberty of talking to Malia,” Derek opened with, and Stiles chocked on his own saliva. The game would be up pretty fast if Derek had talked to his ex.  She sucked at subtlety, she would’ve let Derek know they were no longer an item. “She had a list of complaints.”

“A list of—“ Stiles heard his voice go high-pitched and he tried to reign in his temper. “A list of motherfucking complaints? I was a saint! I was the best boyfriend any girl could ask for.”

“You ‘were’?”

Shit.  _Smooth, Stiles, real smooth_. “I mean, yeah, it’s true, things have been a little rocky lately. Between us. Me, and my girlfriend.” God him and Malia were having one hell of a talk later. He knew, for a fucking fact, that within a week of their breakup she’d started hooking up with Liam. The only reason the beta wasn’t here comforting her right now was because it was past the kid’s bedtime.

“I noticed,” Derek said, and there was a wealth of meaning behind his words that Stiles didn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole.

Stiles began to wonder if maybe he was imagining it all. 

Maybe all this time Derek had just been staring at him heatedly because he was judging him for failing in all respects to treat his cousin right.

Naah, naah, he couldn’t be that wrong.  Derek wanted him. 

Stiles straightened and braced himself. “Alright, let’s have it. What’s on this list? Am I too generous? Too sweet and thoughtful and—”

Derek pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.

“Let me see that!” Stiles rushed for the paper.

Sadly, Derek held it out of reach, and all of Stiles’s efforts to climb his body failed miserably, because Derek had him at arm’s length. His hand was on Stiles’s forehead, preventing all productive movement. “Give it to me!”

“Back off and I’ll read it to you.”

“Fine, fine,” Stiles backed up, then made a rush for it, only to have Derek thwart him again.  Stiles raised his hands in surrender and backed off for real. “Alright, alright, lay it on me.”

Stiles felt like his every nerve was exposed when Derek cleared his throat, raised the paper, and commenced. “You never go hunting with her.”

Oh, oh, that wasn’t so bad, it was just normal Malia crazy talk. He should’ve known. “Like any sane man would do that.”

Derek glared at him.

Stiles rolled his eyes and corrected his sentiment. “I mean, of course, on the morrow I will begin hunting with your lovely cousin.” He faked a smile so big his cheeks hurt. “True love and all that.”

This was not how this was supposed to go down.

Derek wasn’t supposed to rake him over the coals.  Derek was supposed to like, hold his hand, because that’s what Malia deserved.  Give him a back massage, because that’s what Malia deserved.  Suck his dick, because that’s what Malia fucking deserved.

Be his pretend boyfriend. Get him some flowers, read him some poetry, hold his books, teach by example, you know?

“You spend too much time with Scott,” Derek continued.

“I’m not allowed to have friends? How is that healthy.”

“You could do with some improvement in the bedroom department.”

“She did not fucking say that.”

“No, she said ‘Stiles is bad at sex’.”

“I’m gonna kill her,” Stiles said. “I’m gonna find her and I’m gonna make her wish she was dead.”

“You won’t,” Derek growled. “You should be grateful she hasn’t dumped you.”

“Oh fuck you,” Stiles said, distantly wondering when things had gone so wrong. Derek was supposed to be fucking him under the beautiful night sky on this rooftop by now. “Like your love life is in better shape. Where’s Braeden, hmmm?”

Derek shook his head. “How you got a girl is beyond me.”

“I’ll show you how I got a girl,” Stiles said, running for Derek, honestly unsure if he wanted to deck him or kiss him.

His best friend’s voice stopped him in his tracks. “So this is where you two are.” Stiles turned to find Scott leaning against the door, looking way too entertained. When had he come up?

“How’s Malia?” Derek asked, ever the thoughtful cousin.

“She’s settling in,” Scott said.

“I’ll check on her,” Derek walked down the stairwell, leaving Stiles alone on the roof with Scott. 

Scott walked up to him and patted him on the back with sympathy. “Oh yeah, Derek’s definitely into you.”

Stiles glared at his friend. “You suck at timing. He was this close to sucking my dick, this close!”

Scott snorted. “In your dreams, sunshine.”

 

THE NEXT DAY, Stiles sat in the shade of a tree to escape the ridiculously hot sun.  He leaned on the picnic table and morosely stared at his sandwich. There was doubt creeping into his mind.  That Derek had in fact ever liked him.  That his dick was ever going to get wet again.

Malia was in trouble, and that sucked.  But did she have to kick him when he was down? ‘Bad at sex’? What a load of crap. Speak of the devil.

“They were looking for you in the cafeteria.” Malia walked over and settled in beside him. “Why are you off in a corner?”

“I’m having a bad day,” Stiles said, “darling girlfriend of mine.”

Malia smirked. “I see Derek had his little talk.”

“Why did you tell him we were dating? Do you realize how cockblocked I am?”

Malia shrugged. “He really wanted to paint you like the bad guy. It felt kind of good. I mean, you did dump me.”

Stiles resentfully conceded, if only to himself, that the lady had a point.

“I don’t get why he’s so interested,” Malia mused.  

“Because he likes me,” Stiles said.

Malia laughed. “Suuure. He wants to kill you, more like.”

“No, no, I’m pretty sure he wants to—” Stiles stopped talking, suddenly realizing that his ex-girlfriend probably wasn’t the best person to talk about Derek with. He noticed Lydia walking towards them, the perfect distraction.

“Hey, Malia, how are you?” Lydia came and sat beside Malia. “I heard you met your mom last night? How awesome is that.”

“Great,” Malia said drily.

“What was she like?” Lydia said, and Stiles got out a pocket knife and began carving in the wood. It felt like the right time to deface some public property.

“Scary, but I think I like her,” Malia said, while Stiles made fast work of ‘D+S’ and got to work on the heart that would surround his declaration of love. And Derek thought he wasn’t romantic, the, the, the hot fucker. “You haven’t done any screaming lately, right?”

“I don’t even have the slightest funny feeling,” Lydia said. “It’s like Beacon Hills has its own protector or something.”

Derek could’ve been Stiles’s protector. Stiles finished the heart and slipped the knife into his pocket. Derek could’ve warded off the creatures of the night by sitting on Stiles to keep him immobile and warm and sexed. God, Stiles wanted Derek to sex him so bad.  Bad enough to be really sad and hurt that Derek thought he was a bad boyfriend. 

Stiles raised his head and glared at Malia, but kept his mouth shut. As much as he hated it, the whole mom thing gave her a free pass on this one.

“Hey, it’s Kira, let’s go join her,” Lydia said. “Bye, Stiles.”

“Yeah, see you after school,” Malia said, reminding him that Derek was picking them up and taking them straight to his place. Like he’d forgotten. Stiles sighed.

 

WHEN DEREK CAME to pick them up, Stiles sat in the back, in the middle between Kira and Scott. They got to Derek’s and everyone settled in to do their thing. Only when everyone was busy did Derek give him the come hither gesture. Stiles lost a few more brain cells but manfully followed his wet dream out of the room.

Now it was time to come clean. Let Derek know that he was a free agent.

Derek paused when they were back on the infamous rooftop.

“I may have been a little harsh last night,” Derek said, as if the words were dragged out of him kicking and screaming.

“Oh?” Stiles crossed his arms, eyed his feet, eyed the wolf who’d sort of just apologised. He felt oddly exposed, and Derek wasn’t even looking at him with his magic sex eyes.

“Maybe there’s a different way to do this,” Derek continued, all gruff and so reluctantly Stiles was having hot flashes. Bad boys changing their ways, it did it for him every time.

Still, he hadn’t gotten over last night’s little scene, and a part of him wanted to be all snarky and snarl “you think?” Stiles reigned himself in. Derek was being mature, he could follow his example. “What did you have in mind?” Please let it involve frottage. Oh god his day would finish so beautifully with a little dick on dick bonding time.

“Maybe we could try and get back some of the spark you felt for Malia.  Like, what first drew you to her?”

With Derek staring at him, all strong angles and solicitous werewolf gaze, Stiles couldn’t’ve answered that question with a gun to his head. “Ugh,” Stiles grunted, melting into a puddle of lust.

“Come on, Stiles,” Derek said, irritated, and Stiles worried he’d hyperventilate. There was just something so sexy about how Derek’s brow furrowed and he sort of nibbled on his bottom lip with impatience.  It reminded him of the good old days when Derek made a habit of throwing him against walls.

“Mmmm?” Stiles blinked, making a real effort to return saliva to his mouth. He sort of opened and closed it, swooshing his tongue around to get rid of the dryness.

“Focus,” Derek said. “Look, I don't have to help you.”

“No, no,” Stiles rolled his shoulders, nodded his head, slapped his cheeks a little. “I got this. Right, right, Malia, what drew me to her? She just ugh—has that quality, you know, just something absolutely indescribable about her, like it’s hard to pinpoint or talk about it, even, but, god, it really does it for me.” Stiles stared up at Derek beneath his lashes, trying to see if he was swallowing it.

Miracles of miracles, the guy was nodding. “Of course.  Maybe we should try something else.”

Now was the time for some mutual handjobs? “Anything you want, Derek, roleplay— just throwing that out there— but anything, you name it, I’ll do it.”

Derek stared at him. Oh yeah, they were getting somewhere, there was that heat, bring it baby. Except Derek’s gaze shuttered, as if a door closed. “No, actually, you were right. I’m not the one to teach you any of this.” And the fucker bolted down the stairs.

“Derek, wait—!” but the guy was long gone.

That’s it. Stiles was taking things into his own hands, and the first thing he was doing was clearing certain things up, establishing certain truths very firmly into Derek’s thick skull.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

DEREK PROBABLY SHOULDN’T have left Stiles on the roof like that.  But the guy was bringing up roleplay and giving him these inviting looks and Derek wasn’t the kind of guy who slept with his cousin’s boyfriend.  That was a barrel of ugly he needed to stay away from.

He was already too uncomfortably close to the line.  But as hard as he tried, he couldn’t control his fantasies; he couldn’t stop himself from reacting to Stiles. But he sure as hell could keep himself from acting on it.

Stiles stayed upstairs for a while and was skittish for the rest of the evening. Preoccupied, sticking to himself.  If anything, Derek’s attempt to bring his cousin and her boyfriend closer together had backfired.  They weren’t speaking; they weren’t even in the same room.

That showed him to try and be a matchmaker.  Malia would do what she wanted to do, and it was none of his business. It had never been any of his business.

In trying to get away from this magnetic pull Stiles had, Derek had gone a little too far in the opposite direction. He'd tried to cement the couple together so he could prove to himself that he was a good guy. The kind of guy who didn’t poach on someone else’s territory.

He'd tried to be a man of honor, a man you could count on.

Things quieted down and he finally climbed into bed. This time he wasn’t asleep when he had a nighttime visitor.

Stiles’s boxers didn’t glow in the dark, because he wasn’t wearing any.

“No,” Derek said, sitting up in bed. “Stiles, get out of here, now.”

“Wait,” Stiles said. “Just hear me out.”

Stiles was the worst boyfriend, but Derek wasn’t much of a better cousin, it turned out. But the man of his dreams was naked, in his room, his fantasy come to life. “You’ve got a minute.”

This was such a bad idea.

“Malia and I aren’t dating. We broke up a month ago. She’s hooking up with Liam. And I, I want you.”

What? What. “Why are you lying? You know, I almost fucked you anyway, but the least you can do is tell me the truth.”

“I’m not-!” Stiles took a deep breath, like he was the one who needed to reign in his temper. “This is the fucking truth, you fucking asshole, and if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll…” Stiles couldn’t find a way to finish his sentence, but the gist of it was powerful enough.

What was a little sex, in the dark, with no one to know but them?  They were two consenting adults.

With Malia sleeping under the same roof.  _Get a grip, Derek_. “I talked to her. She said you were dating.”

“She had her reasons for saying that, but it’s not true. I’ll wake her right now if you want—“

“Let’s do it,” Derek said. It was time for another talk with his cousin. He jumped out of the bed, put on his boxers, and threw Stiles his blanket.

They walked in angry silence to Malia’s room. Stiles wasn’t backing off. That meant he wasn’t lying. He looked pissed enough that maybe he’d turn Derek down out of spite, but Derek knew just the way to make it up to him.

They knocked on the door.

No answer.

Derek knocked again.

“No,” Stiles looked like he wanted to cry. “She doesn’t hate me this much.”

But they opened the door, and Malia’s room was empty. Derek felt a little like crying too, but he held it together.

“Get dressed,” he said. “I’ll wake the others.”

“Whatever,” Stiles bit off, but he was running to his bedroom, presumably to get clothes.

“You’re staying here!” Derek yelled after him.

“Fuck you,” Stiles yelled back.

Scott and him raced to the clearing in record speed, and this time Malia wasn’t alone.

“Derek, I’d like you to meet my mother,” Malia said.

 

THE FRONT DOOR opened and Stiles jumped up from the couch.

“We found her,” Scott walked in with Derek in tow. Derek sent Stiles a glance and casually went up the spiral staircase.

“She’s alive?” Stiles said, his eyes on Derek’s ass.

“Yeah,” Scott grinned. “We met her mom—she’s so cool—”

“Sweet, listen,” Stiles stretched out and faked a yawn. “I’m all tuckered out, so, we’ll talk in the morning?”

“Sure, night, Stiles,” Scott said.

Stiles raced up the stairs, and when he reached the top, someone grabbed him and led him to his bedroom.

“I talked to Malia,” Derek said, overwhelmingly close, all up in his business. “Stiles?”

“Yeah?” Stiles whimpered.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” Derek dropped him on the bed.

“Oh please yes,” Stiles said, shedding his clothes in record speed, just throwing and ripping them off, and then bending over the bed to present Derek with his naked ass.

There was a moment of stunned silence from behind him. Stiles felt ready to jump out of his skin, and he almost did when Derek’s hand landed on his ass. “I realize how my saying that would lead you to do this. And don’t think that I’m unhappy, but there’s this thing called foreplay—“

“I’ll climb onto your cock if I have to,” Stiles threatened, remaining in position. “Fuck me. Now.”

“Alright,” Derek said, but the guy took his sweet time. Stiles could hear him undress, all leisurely. It was torture. “You know, I have this fantasy.”

Derek was a talker. When you need the silent type to remain in character, the dude betrayed you so utterly.

“Me too,” Stiles said, “it’s the one where you tease me for months and then you follow through with your promise.”

“In mine, it starts out with just your chest, and it’s bare, but for some reason you’re wearing your backpack.”

That shut Stiles up. For like a second. “That’s twisted, man,” but then Derek started fingering his ass and Stiles lost access to rational thought. Except this would be even nicer if Stiles could see what Derek was doing. He’d thought bending over the bed would be more of a statement though, and they were finally getting somewhere.

Somewhere good, somewhere fantastically awesome that involved Derek’s fingers massaging his butt from the inside. Aw yeah. “Please, more,” Stiles chanted, like it was some kind of secret password that through sheer force of repetition would get him what he wanted.

He wanted the D. Derek’s dick, now, because those fingers could work magic and set off all kind of sparks but they were far from the real thing.

But they were a damn fine substitute. Stiles could feel his hips moving of their own accord, chasing that pressure, trying to keep Derek’s fingers inside him as long as he could.

And then they were gone, and Stiles honest to god felt his eyes prickle. “If you leave I’ll scream.”

“You’ll scream alright,” Derek said, cheesy but so cocksure Stiles felt the line wrap around his cock, and then it was the tip of Derek’s dick against his ass, and Stiles waited, so ready.

That first inch had Stiles biting the covers, impossibly glad that this was actually, finally happening. He tried to treasure every second of Derek’s cock breaching him for the first time.

And then Derek started fucking him for real and Stiles lost all notion of time and place, he was just a body being pleasured. Stiles’s thighs kept ramming into the bed in a steady rhythm, Derek’s hands on his hips, his balls smacking into him.

Stiles’s mind blanketed out, just this pressure clenching and releasing until he came.

 

“I’M GOING WITH my mom,” Malia said the next morning. She’d come back to the loft just in time for breakfast. “She’s good people.”

Stiles nodded, trying to look like someone who gave a fuck about anything besides the fact that he’d got some last night, and Derek had even stayed in bed with him and snuggled until the early hours. Sure, the guy now stood on the other side of the room, and hadn’t kissed him in front of the pack, but maybe he was just shy?

“If you’re sure,” Derek said. “I can’t say I won’t be glad to have the house back to myself, but I want you to be safe.”

“I will be,” Malia made her round of hugs and left.

Derek crossed his arms. “You heard her. The desert wolf is not a threat. I don’t see why you’re all still here.”

“What about me?” Stiles said, and Scott gave him this truly pitying look that Stiles was doing his best to ignore.

“I sort of want a little time alone, if that’s cool,” Derek said, so gently it made it worse.

“Oh, sure,” Stiles nodded. He didn’t know how he was still standing. He’d come onto Derek and the guy had pity-fucked him and he’d never wanted him and Stiles was so stupid. Oh god he was an idiot. He wanted to die, right now, just curl up in a ball and disappear.

“Come on, Stiles, let’s go,” Scott wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Oh, hey, Scott?” Derek said. “You don’t mind if I borrow Stiles sometimes?”

Stiles tripped over his feet and Scott paused. “For what?”

Derek lifted a brow. “I don’t ask you what you get up to with Kira.”

Scott honest to god gaped.

“I’ll tell you everything, Scott,” Stiles said, so happy he couldn’t’ve kept the words to himself if he tried. “Don’t worry.”

“Sure, guys, whatever you need,” Scott said, still with a dazed look in his eye, but grinning. “I’m not his keeper, you know.”

 

A FEW DAYS later, Stiles was in Derek’s kitchen because the man had finally texted him.

 Derek stood behind the counter, looking so good Stiles kept his hands firmly in his pockets, beyond unsure how they were playing this. “I thought I’d grill us some burgers on the roof?”

“Yeah, that’d be, yeah,” Stiles said. “And then sex, though?”

“What, up there?” Derek lifted a brow.

“I mean, if the hamburgers are really good, who knows what I’ll be tempted to do,” Stiles said, downplaying his need to defile any space Derek dragged him to.

Derek shook his head. “And you call me a pervert.”

“Oh, oh, should I go get my backpack?” Stiles said, half-serious.

“Shut up,” Derek said without heat, grabbing a package of hamburger meat and some eggs out of the fridge.

“I’ll just go wait on the roof,” Stiles said, and started to look for his damn backpack. When it came to seducing Derek he was shameless.

“Stiles?” Derek called out.

“Hmmm?”

“You’re not bad at sex.”

Stiles laughed, a small insecure part of him actually reassured by the joke.

“I hunt alone, and I’d never want to come between you and Scott, so,” Derek shrugged.

Stiles’s heart went in his throat, and he clenched his fists until the wave of feeling passed, and he could speak again. “Cool,” he rasped out. “That’s um—cool.”

 


End file.
